Текст песни Tori Amos - Little Amsterdam

Little Amsterdam In a southern town Hominy get it on the plate girl Momma keep your head down Momma it wasn't my bullet Don't take me back to the range Back to the range I'm just comin' out of the cell in my brain Don't, don't, take me back to the range Back to the range 'Cause girl you got to know these days Which side you're on Momma got a shot, shit She loved a brown man Then she built a bridge in the Sheriff's bed She'd do anything to save her man You see her olives They are all cold pressed And her best friend is a Sun dress But Momma, it wasn't my bullet No, ooh Don't take me back to the range Back to the range I'm just comin' out of the cell in my brain Don't don't take me back to the range Back to the range 'Cause girl you got to know these days All alone Got a girl in the city Hey, got a room and a place for two Got a goat and a phone, I said "Boy, you are my Fifth Avenue" Round and around and around I go (Say you are willing to hang around for me, my babe) Round and around this time for keeps Round and around and around I go (Say you are willing to hang around for me, my babe) Round and around this time for keeps Father only you can save my soul And playin' that organ must count For something Something You got to know these days Little Amsterdam, shot down today They buried her with a butter bean bouquet And the Sheriff now, can't ride away Like he said into the sunset, and I won't say That he shouldn't have paid But Momma, it wasn't my bullet
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